Jude
tensed at the accusation, but Jude's heart roared when hearing James' barely concealed rage. His hands stayed at Giselle's hips, stroking his thumb into the dip of her thigh soothingly.
"Jude," Giselle whispered, but it was the rough swallow behind that quiet plea of his name. Whether she meant it as a warning or begging him to take her away didn't matter.
"I'll handle this, my dove. Don't worry," said Jude.
With a reluctant retreat from her touch, Jude faced the man who had ruined both of their lives too many times to count. His fingers twitched with the insatiable urge to punch James across his stupid face. He was meant to be better than that, better than him.
Yet, even when he won, James couldn't accept that life didn't always work out in his favor. Someone should teach him how to be a gracious loser.
"James." Jude's jaw set when James slinked closer. Another step from James, and he'd lose his cool after years of holding his tongue. "You should go elsewhere. Giselle doesn't want you here, and neither do I."
"It doesn't matter where I go. You two are always there and rubbing it in my face that you're happy with sloppy seconds."
"Didn't I tell you to never refer to Giselle as sloppy fucking seconds, you prick?"
"What are you going to do about it?"
"You want to find out?"
Jude lurched forward as James leaned back. He might've thrown a punch if Giselle's hand hadn't grasped at his wrist. Warm fingers curled around him, and she, the anchor that grounded him to the world, called out.
"Jude, he's not worth it. Let's go and celebrate you. Today is your day," Giselle murmured, and the indent of her body tucked underneath his arm nearly yanked all the anger from his body.
His sweet, forgiving Giselle. She deserved better than to turn the other cheek and accept James' words. He couldn't stand it.
"How adorable. You two have the whole act down to the nauseating details," James remarked, but Giselle's body bristled hard.
Jude's eyes dropped to find her face drained of all its color, and her nails dug into his skin hard. The sting along his forearm promised nails breaking through skin and maybe the drawing of blood if he was unlucky.
"What are you talking about? Do you hear yourself right now?" Giselle stammered, turning Jude's stomach hard enough to resurrect his paltry breakfast before class.
"See, Dakota mentioned something you said earlier, and it stuck with her. She said that you mentioned you and lover boy over here falling in love unexpectedly." Disgust ran off James' tongue, torn between a grimace and a smirk. His face contorted into a twisted amalgamation of an unreadable expression, but the smugness filled the air like smoke. "And the others and I started thinking."
"You're capable of a coherent thought? Could've fooled me," Jude bit, regretting the words as he said them. Not the best time to be snarky. Giselle's posture wilted until Jude's arms coiled around her, keeping her close.
"Funny. No, the others and I realized what's going on here. Giselle realized she'd be deprived of all the gifts I bought her and all the trips I could offer after our break-up. So, out of desperation, she came to you with an offer to be your little rent-a-girlfriend so you wouldn't seem like a total loser. You, having a weird obsession with her since high school, accepted. She got the material items of a rich guy and the status while you got laid."
"You should consider becoming a writer with a story that far-fetched. Giselle doesn't need a rich man. I love her for who she is."
"You can deny it all you want. It's a pathetic way to win our rivalry, but I hope you didn't have to work too hard for Flower Child to put out," James snorted, breaking the final straw.
Despite Giselle’s tight grip, Jude surged forward.
James jumped back, but his back smacked into the strip of wall between the restrooms for the first floor, splaying his hands behind him like a brace would save him. James could insult him until he turned blue in the face, but Giselle stayed off-limits.
"Our relationship has no quid pro quo because that's not how loving ones work. You'd never understand that because you need your flock of groupies around to feel like anything but a small, insignificant man. So, let me warn you one more time, talk about her again, and I'll make you regret ever laying your greedy eyes on Giselle Courtland," said Jude, but each word shot off like a bullet.
James' eyes wavered to meet his, but his attention dropped toward Giselle at Jude's side.
"Jude, I want to say something. Stand behind me?" Giselle's voice trembled ever so slightly when she asked, but the strength of her grip on his arm told another story. She needed her moment to speak her mind.
Jude backed away from James, letting Giselle stand before him, still within reaching distance of his hands. He sat them on her shoulders and watched the flicker of amusement on James' face.
"How cute. You've put lover boy on a leash, and he obeys like a dog," James started, but Giselle's finger against his lips cut him off. Not unlike the expression on James' face, Jude's chest caved inward, startled.
"Shut up and listen. I know you're terrible at that, but it's my turn now," Giselle snapped, harsher than Jude had heard her speak. "You mentioned the rivalry you started, and I'm pleased to say it's over now. But not in your favor."
"You b—" Giselle's finger pressed harder on his face to shut James up again, and Jude observed, utterly transfixed.
"Shh. The adult's talking now. Your rivalry is over because 'rivalry' implies you two are on the same level. You're not. Jude has the grades, got the girl in the end through honest means, and has a bright future. You, on the other hand, have nothing besides your dad's pocketbook. Money buys a lot, but it won’t give you a future worth admiring."
Jude couldn't help how a laugh overtook him, but a feigned cough saved face for Giselle's moment.
James' face spun through the color wheel from ghost white to blustery, tomato-red within seconds. But Giselle clicked her tongue like a teacher chastising a naughty child.
She continued, "You wasted years of my life. You call Jude a dog? You treated me more like one than a girlfriend our whole relationship. I want you to get everything you want. That's right. I hope you get it all and realize it's still not enough for you. You're a deeply unsatisfied prick, and I can't wait to make you a footnote in my history.”
Giselle removed her hand from James' mouth and stepped back, colliding with Jude's chest. But he moved her to his side with the gentlest hands, too busy beaming with pride to care about anything else.
James, however, clenched his fists and tapped his knuckles against the wall, pointedly short of punching straight into the wall. He hissed, "You're stupider than I thought, Giselle. Jude's schoolyard crush will eventually fade, and he'll leave you like I did."
"You're joking, right? Jude wanted me before you knew I even existed. . . I know about what you did."
"You'll regret this."
"No. You already do. Get lost, or I won't stop Jude the next time he wants to put his fist through your face."
"You heard the lady. Get lost," Jude snapped, which broke the tension in half. Wordlessly, James shoved past them to vanish down the hallway, scurrying off like the rat he was, and Jude hoped he never saw his face again.
The rivalry died with him and Giselle on that sweet April afternoon.
No sooner than James tucked his tail around the corner, Giselle's arms slid around his neck, and Jude's mouth found hers, picking up where they left off before being rudely interrupted. Giselle giggled against his lips, but those sweet sounds became breathy sighs at Jude's eager but gentle bites along her lower lip.
Giselle threaded her fingers through his hair, mumbling something into the kiss, lost in the haze of it all. Jude's hands around her gripped tighter, unconcerned about anything.
He survived another successful semester at college, scored the most prestigious professor for his thesis advisor, AND convinced the most amazing girl to be his. Jude had never been so lucky in his entire life.
He intended to keep it that way.
In his usual spot at the kitchen counter, Jude basked in the May sunshine through the window and the aroma of baked goods. He stared at his laptop and the cursor stagnant on the color-coded spreadsheet. . . taunting his inaction.
"This shouldn't be so hard," Jude mumbled while clicking the mouse a few times, refreshing the untouched page like the epiphany he needed might strike. Alas, no ideas appeared promising all the answers to the next big step.
Grad school.
A gentle clatter against the countertop dragged him from the impasse of his thoughts and the spreadsheet. He didn't glance over until the weight of Giselle's head settled onto his shoulders.
"Hey." Jude's arm slipped down and around her waist, pulling his girlfriend and her chair closer. "Thanks for lunch."
"Of course. Can I ask what has your face all. . ?" Giselle hesitated, furrowing her brows, and crinkling her nose.
Jude turned his laptop toward her, exchanging spreadsheets for a bite of her cinnamon coffee cake, fresh out of the oven. Warm, buttery, and just right in sweetness, the slice melted on his tongue. One bite tasted like home, beckoning him to forget all his worries and take another.
"Since the semester's over, I've started looking at my plans for after graduation."
"How's it going?"
"Honestly, it's not half bad. I have some solid ideas about where I want to apply for my Ph.D. Most are local but have great study abroad options or international workshops."
"I like the idea of you staying local, but I can't wait to hear about your options. I can't imagine how much mental and physical energy a doctoral program requires."
Jude hummed, sneaking another bite of the coffee cake; he almost inhaled it instead. He licked his lips. "It's definitely something. Can I run some ideas by you. . . since we're in this together?"
"I'd love to." Giselle's voice swept up his neck when her lips hovered above his collarbone. "As long as I can get your opinion on mine in return."
Hers?
Jude perked up, brimming with energy like his veins flowed with hot, fresh coffee. He leaned Giselle into view, running his eyes over her messy bun with curls framing her face and the soft pink dusting her cheeks. "Seriously? Show me what you've got!"
"Alright!" Giselle wiggled off the stool and raced toward her room, waking Carrot from his midday nap on the couch. "Be right back!"
She disappeared, but Jude watched the doorway for her return, even as Carrot slinked off the couch with the disappointed whipping of his tail. He plodded over and stretched up, paws pressing into Jude's ankle.
Jude leaned down and scooped Carrot off the floor, who became limp in Jude's hands with loud purring. He shook his head. "God, you're so orange. No thoughts exist in that head, huh?"
In true orange cat fashion, Carrot purred with his little face scrunched up and his head butting into Jude's chest. He bonked his head into Jude with soft little responses after each nudge.
Jude swallowed a laugh while he ran his hands over Carrot, hearing the distant rustling noises. A muted clatter caught his and Carrot's attention from how they glanced toward the bedrooms.
Seconds after, Giselle returned with a shoebox gripped in her hand. The blue butterfly pattern of the exterior matched the unevenly painted lid stacked underneath the box.
She climbed onto her stool and shook the box. "This is everything! I began collecting all the papers, brochures, and other information I collected about the colleges I researched! I hand-wrote some of it, but my hand got tired."
Jude dipped his hand into the box, sifting through the box's contents, while Carrot stretched out on his lap, dangerously leaning over his legs.
"Giselle, this is incredible! You're incredible."
"Awww, thank you. Okay, you go first."
"If you insist." Jude opened his tabs while Giselle scooted closer, playing with Carrot in his lap. He opened the spreadsheet. "So, I've calculated what schools in the greater Los Angeles area will likely take me based on my current GPA and other statistics for a Ph.D. program. These are UCLA, USC, and West Bridge."
"And none of those are a bad choice, right? I know all those names," Giselle asked, mid-bite with her mouth still wrapped around her fork.
"No bad choices here. UCLA and USC have name recognition nationally, which is a bonus. But the political science program at West Bridge is among the best in the nation. I have a pre-existing relationship with the West Bridge faculty, and they have high acceptance rates from prior undergraduate students." Jude scrolled down the spreadsheet and hit each point in his pros/cons list.
He'd been down the same road dozens of times before but hadn't shared his thoughts outside his academic advisor's office. Seeing it with Giselle felt. . . too real.
"Are these your top three choices?"
"Yeah. I want to stay in the state. It's closer to family. Closer to you."
"I won't argue against that, as long as you're not staying behind solely for my benefit or your parents."
"Speaking of. . . it's your turn now."
Giselle dropped her fork into her half-eaten slice of coffee cake, crumbling into chunks of fluffy cinnamon like a damp sandcastle. She lifted the box onto what little free space remained on the counter, rummaging through its contents.
"So, I discussed this in-depth with an academic advisor at one of the colleges, but all of these places have options for an associate degree in horticulture, which is the art and science of garden cultivation and management."
"That sounds like a major made exactly for you." Jude had never heard of 'horticulture, ' but he couldn't question the joy from Giselle's voice. Hopeful, sweet, and brilliant like pure sunlight. "Is that what you want to study?"
"Yes! I've carved out a few career options. One of the cuter ones is an ornamental horticulturist, who focuses on plants for aesthetic or commercial purposes. Since almost all of these colleges require me to take a business or accounting course, I might consider starting my own business in horticulture."
Giselle began to ramble, hands waving excitedly, but Jude watched her with the dumbest smile. How could she not see how she bloomed when she believed in herself?
The whole world could be hers if she set her sights on it.
Jude laid his head on top of hers. "Which one is your favorite? If you had to pick a top choice right now?"
He barely finished before Giselle picked a flyer out of the box and held it up to him. Echo Park Community College. He recognized the neighborhood pictured on the flyer as twenty minutes or so from his apartment, even with morning traffic in the city. What a perfect distance it would be if she stayed with him.
"This one has a great program and an on-campus garden to practice. Students are allowed to use it outside of class," Giselle whispered, sinking into his chest before his arm wrapped around her again.
"We're getting you into that school," said Jude. "And that helps me with one more decision. What would you think if I took a gap year between graduation and my PhD?"
Giselle's head nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "I'm listening. . . what would you do during the gap period?"
"I could bulk my resume with some work experience. You'd be in your second year of your degree, and I get to be your support system for the year. We could travel and do things together, resting before I commit to the doctorate program."
"You've got this all thought out, huh?"
"What can I say? Thinking about our life is one of my favorite pastimes."
"Our life. I like the sound of that."
"And here we thought by now we'd be staging our amicable fake break-up," Jude snorted, cut off quickly when Giselle turned his face down. The kiss she laid on him faded the rest of the world away into background noise.
A beautiful future instead of a break-up and broken hearts. . . all because of a harmless, little lie.